


Loki is dead

by the_authors_exploits



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Gen, thor is sad
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-10
Updated: 2017-09-10
Packaged: 2018-12-26 06:15:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 856
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12053040
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/the_authors_exploits/pseuds/the_authors_exploits
Summary: Thor must inform Midgard about Loki's demise





	Loki is dead

**Author's Note:**

> Loki didnt die in The Dark World, but died in a similar manner later on

_“Loki is dead.”_

Thor knows what the reaction will be; the same as everyone else. Relief, elation, thankfulness… It still doesn’t hurt any less.

Erik’s shoulders sag and he breathes out. “Oh, thank god!”

It doesn’t hurt any less, and then Erik is handing Thor a beer and asking if he’s seen Jane yet.

_“Loki is dead.”_

The reaction is the same; it always is. Jane sighs, slumps against the doorframe—Thor refuses to come inside—and smiles into empty space.

“Oh wow!” she turns her bright eyes on him, and the smile vanishes in an instant to be replaced with an embarrassed frown. “Oh, Thor, I… I’m sorry…”

She reaches out, to comfort him, and Thor accepts her embrace; she’s tender and kind and, even if her comfort seems almost empty, Thor appreciates her actions.

_“Loki is dead.”_

Tony slaps the table in celebration, calling for brandy and the good stuff, and Clint’s muscle relax the slightest; Natasha watches Thor, and there’s a strange undercurrent of worry in her eyes. She’s probably questioning a trick or if Thor is under Loki’s powers; but Loki had never once controlled Thor, no matter how often he begged for Thor to leave him in peace to read a book…

Hair alterations, anamorphous transformations, snakes in his bed and bugs in his goblet; but never any thralldom.

“Good riddance!” Tony hollers, and Bruce softly chastises him; still, the Man of Iron lifts a glass of alcohol in cheer.

Steve shakes his head and stands to leave. “I’m not going to be a part of this.”

“Aw, come on, Spangles, loosen your panties!” Tony pours more alcohol, and Thor refuses the glass Natasha offers him; not that it’d get him drunk enough to ignore the pain. “This is good news!”

“No, it’s not; Thor’s brother is dead.”

Tony looks cowed for but a moment, before turning to the other Avengers gathered. “I think an egotistical meglomaniac who terrorized not only Earth but other worldly places is finally defeated.”

Thor’s chair scrapes across the floor; all eyes dart to him, and he delicately plucks Mjolnir from the table top. “If you will please excuse me,” he chokes out. “I must go.”

“Thor.”

He ignores Natasha; he still has others to inform of Loki’s passing. And he needs to compose himself.

_“Loki is dead.”_

Each celebration, each cheer, each rise in joy and excitement, wears away at Thor; he repeats the phrase, he listens to them laugh, lets their smiles brighten the room. He excuses himself soon after.

_“Loki is dead.”_

“What happened on Asgard?” Natasha hands him a coffee and settles a poptart on a plate in front of him. “When Loki died?”

She sits across from him, blowing steam from her own coffee, and waits patiently.

“Are you asking what his death was like or what the reactions were?”

A sip. “What do you want to talk about?”

Thor looks at his hands; they aren’t trembling, but he feels weak. Tired, lonely, empty… “He died saving my life; we were defending Asgard against an invasion of elves, and one of them… They had a sword to my back, ready to strike, and Loki—Loki stepped between.”

Her cup is set down with a subtle click of ceramic on polished wood. “That was honorable of him.”

Thor smiles; it was. That was the Loki Thor knew and loved; honorable and funny and loving, all in his own way. But a less crazed way, a more endearing way; all the tricks he’d played, however nasty—Sif’s hair and ruining Thor’s coronation—were nothing compared to the break, the attempted destruction of Jotunheim and conquering Midgard.

Thor would accept any thousands of tricks if it’d just mean Loki was still alive.

“There was more to him than what you met; I know it doesn’t excuse what he’d done, but my brother was not always hurtful. He was kind and patient, and intelligent, and he…” Thor lifts his hands for emphasis, and Natasha smiles. “He was so small; when my father brought him home, he fit in my arms so perfectly. Tiny little hands grabbing at my hair, such cold skin, and so sickly… When we were little, we used to climb trees and he could hardly ever reach the next branch.”

Natasha takes his hands, and Thor wipes his face against his shoulder. “After he stepped in front of the elf, what happened?”

“He died.” Thor leaves out the drama; the blood, the weight of his brother in his arms…

“And did Asgard mourn?”

“Asgard always mourns; whether they mean it or not, it’s done out of respect and duty.”

She understands; Asgard mourned, through games and feasts and rites, but with no heart. “Is it worse? To watch people mourn knowing they don’t mean it, or to watch people celebrate?”

Thor looks away; he slowly retrieves his hands from hers, folds his arms, and glances out to the rising sun. “There’s no worse pain, Natasha; it hurts when they pretend, and it hurts when they cheer. It hurts because Loki is dead.

“Loki is dead,” he murmurs. “And that is what hurts.”


End file.
